Back to the sarcasm, I see.
I smirk. “I get like that when…”
“When what?”
I suck in a sharp breath and smile. “When I get nervous, I say a lot of words… like, like I am right now, you know. Crap.”
“I do, too, so don’t worry.”
London shuts her eyes, so I do too. I’m cupping her face, so I can feel the smile that etches on her lips. The one that has me reach up and feel every groove of her smile line like it’s a cure. A cure to the madness crawling up my skin and into my veins whenever she’s not around.
“You’re nervous?”
“Mmhmmm. You make me nervous.”
London gasps cutely. “Me? Why me?”
I shrug even though I know. “You just do.”
Her warm breath tickles my lips. We’re inches apart. Inches apart from heaven…
“Tate?”
“Yeah?”
“You…” she begins, her voice a sugary dream. “You make me nervous too, Tate.”
My heart clenches.
You make me nervous too, Tate.
“Good.” I press my forehead even harder against her. “I’ve come to this lake every night to try to find you again.”
“I came the first three nights, and you never showed. I thought you hated me or something.”
“I could never hate you. I’m not my parents,” I admit. “I came back to this lake a week later after we met. I waited a week because I didn’t know what to say to you. So… yeah.”
London sighs. “Oh.”
“Yeah… you make my heart feel funny.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s weird.”
“Boys are weird.”
A boyish half-smirk works up my lips just as a thought crosses my mind. “I have something for you, but you gotta hold your hands out, close your eyes, and promise not to peek!”
“But I hate surprises!” She laughs.
“I promise, it’s a good one.”
London dramatically huffs and holds out her hands, seeing as her eyes are already shut. “Okayyyyy.”
Unable to wipe the grin from my face, I pull back from London and slip Mr. Bunny out of my raincoat pocket. I’m fast to hide the teddy behind my back when she pops an eye open.
“Hey! I said no peeking!”
London pokes out her tongue and re-shuts her eyes with a glowing smile. “Hurry up!”
My gaze drops to that bruise, and my grin is instantly replaced with a frown.
Who did that to her?
Why doesn’t she want to tell me?
I give London a countdown to three, and on zero, I pull out Mr. Bunny from behind and hold him up like he’s Simba, and this is a The Lion King remake.
London’s eyes open wide, and the gasp that escapes her is like no other. Alongside the pretty grin that follows.
“Oh! My! Gosh!” London squeals and snatches her teddy from me. “Mr. Bunny!”
She hugs it to her chest, stands to her feet, and spins around in circles to the point where she flattens all the snow. That’s how happy she is.
She jumps around.
She giggles.
She does everything I expected her to do with the soundtrack of my laughter. And just knowing that, knowing I’ve made her happy and brightened her mood makes me the luckiest boy alive.
“I, uh…” I scratch the back of my head. “I tried to give him some new eyes. It’s not perfect, but it’s still Mr. Bunny.”
I keep my gaze on her.
On Mr. Bunny.
On her bruise.
London notices. She notices me staring and cups a hand over her bottom lip, covering it. Her timid gaze roams everywhere but me. When those baby-blues finally meet mine again, there’s a light in them. A warmth. And all I really want to say to London is…
Something doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful.
Be beautiful. Be London. Be London with all of your hurt.
You can look like whatever. You’ll still be London Héroux. You’ll still be the prettiest girl I know. But that doesn’t mean I won’t kill whoever hurt you. So, who did it? Who hurt you?
London steps forth and slowly stands between my thighs. She slips Mr. Bunny into the pocket of her trench coat, and I find myself staring at his golden button eyes before London calls my name.
Breathe.
I glance back up at her, my hands slowly find hers. Our fingers gently intertwine like a dance of death, and seeing as I’m still sitting down, I tug her closer till our thighs are brushing. Sparks. Sparks lace my skin in ways I never know existed, exploding fireworks come alive inside.
I’m addicted.
I’m addicted to her, and I can’t stop it.
Helloooo, sleepless nights.
I literally have to clench my jaw because I hate how much I like it. How much I like London’s hand in mine.
I nod toward the bruise. “Who hurt you?”
“Nobo—”
“I don’t believe you. Who did this to you?”
London shakes her head. “I said nobody, Tate. I’m okay. I promise. It was an accident.”
An accident?
I don’t believe her.
“Are you not saying who it is ’cause you think it’ll get the person in trouble?”
London parts her plump lips, but no words come out.
She just keeps staring as a light wind passes, making her long honey-blonde hair sway a little against her coat. It’s like she’s in slow motion, like this is the part of the movie where the girl tells the boy why she ran away, and the boy holds her tight.
Except it isn’t.
It isn’t at all because London doesn’t say a word.
Her fingers tremble in my hold, and I bring them closer to my lips. They’re so frozen, coldness pierces through my hands and a shiver rushes up my spine.
“You’re freezing,” I say and box her fingers against my mouth before blowing warmth into her hands.
Never once do I stop looking at her. Stop looking at the way her mouth curls into a soft smile despite the pain. And right here, it’s as if we’re wrapping ourselves in our own little secret. One I know I’ll remember forever.
I’ll remember this night forever.
The night London Héroux let me warm her hands.
“Who hurt you?”
She sighs. “Just some girls from school…”
I give London a look that says I don’t believe her.
She slips her hands out of mine and sits beside me, staring out at the lake.
Darn it. That’s what I get for asking too many questions.
Bringing her knees up to her chest, she wraps her arms around her legs, rests her cheek on her knees, and then turns to me. She smiles. Smiles. And I’m happy I didn’t make her upset.
“This isn’t how I thought I’d spend my birthday eve…”
Huh?
My heart stops beating. “Wait, what did you say? It’s my birthday tomorrow too.”
London’s jaw drops. “No way! Same!”
“Oh my God!”
We stare at each other until we’re laughing like we’re crazy. The laughter rumbling up my chest feels so good. London makes me feel so good.
I wipe the happy tears from my eyes and smile back at her. “Do you think being fourteen will bring us more luck?”